


Gentle

by Jenovahh



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Drabble, Other, ambiguous WoL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 21:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19981051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenovahh/pseuds/Jenovahh
Summary: “He had the awkward tenderness of someone who has never been loved and is forced to improvise.”— Isabel Allende, The House of The Spirits





	Gentle

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> I have a Zenos request for the drabble. How would Zenos react to the Warrior of light beging gentle with him the first time. Could be sfw or nsfw, if you wish (Also you writing and blog gives me life. )

To love a Garlean Prince, is to flirt with danger, in a way.

Or, loving this one at least.

For how possessive he is, how aloof and standoffish, at his core you can see a man who has never known love. A man with an absent father and a deceased mother. Emotions all but groomed out of him, to make way for cold, calculating thoughts to rule an empire.

So it is with that in mind you slowly begin to tame the beast before you.

It starts out with simply reaching out, the first few tries ending with his reflexes moving him just out of reach, a bored and questioning look thrown your way. Voicing your wishes doesn’t seem the best way to go, so you think that perhaps a display might get your point across. 

When you visit the Scions you bring in a slightly older, slighty confused Alphinaud into your arms, laying your head on his chest as he’s finally hit the growth spurt for his race. His arms return your embrace slowly, yet with acceptance, though you detect a hint of fear as the two of you glance at the stoic prince across the way. Pressing your luck you link your arm with Alphinaud’s, urging him to tell you about his adventures as the two of you stroll away.

Later that night you find yourself pulled in by strong arms, firm but unsure, holding you more possessively than anything. Zenos says nothing, arms loosely around you once you’re in his lap. Smiling, you make yourself comfortable, wrapping your arms around his midsection and leaning your head against broad, muscled chest. You can feel him shift to look down at you, equal parts curious and confused, but unwilling to voice either emotion. Instead, he acts, returning the pressure gradually, until you let out a squeak of pain from being held too tight.

From there it’s attempts at hand holding, at soft, chaste kisses, of being held close while you sleep. You know that Zenos is more than capable of using his words, but in those moments where he seems lost on how to proceed at your careful handling of him, he chooses to remain silent. He has still yet to make a move on his own, studiously watching you as you take the initiative every time, as if he is learning, creating a strategy.

He only speaks when your skin is flushed, him deep inside you, your moans making him drive harder, deeper. Your nights together are usually frenzied, rough as he fucks you into submission beneath him, his name a muddled cry on your lips. But tonight you muster the strength to flip him over, to ride him nice and slow as your hands caress his body. He seems stunned for the moment, not used to you taking the lead, but his eyes are fixated on you all the same as you prolong your mutual pleasure, those blue eyes catching the pure love in your own, hear how longingly you moan his name as you roll your hips.

He flips you beneath him once more, maintaining his pace, eyes focusing on you, _only you,_ as he reaches deep inside. Your legs wrap around his hips, his hands holding yours as he cages your body below his. You gasp as he leans his head against your own, a shuddering moan leaving his lips, eyes closed as you realize the intimacy of that one action. “I see now.” he breathes, eyes still closed as you become the center of his focus through his third eye, his hips moving to angle to your core that has you crying out his name against his lips. 

“Please,” you beg, but he only shakes his head slightly, lips parted as he continues that slow pace, holding you gently against him as he continues to rock into you. 

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble that I wrote on tumblr that I liked so much I figured I'd put it here.


End file.
